A Price Worth Paying

Chapter Twenty-four. Year Three, part four.

Year 3. Part 4.

"You're a chess player Miss Sorenson, and you studied Kasparov? That's impressive." Mr Blackbourne spoke up. "How long did it take to win that game."

"It took forever. Like about, I suppose, four weeks."

Sean ignored the look on Owen's face and spoke up. "Owen loves chess Pumpkin. I'd love to see you take him down, you know." Sean grinned.

Sang wrinkled her nose. "I'm not sure about that. It was something I did with Grampa. May be one day."

Owen gently patted her arm. "Just let me know if you change your mind. We can always play how you did back then, when you're ready."

"You just need to think of something for Pookie to learn to make it worth her while." Sean chuckled "and how about you picking locks! Blindfolded."

"I should fit right in with you all, shouldn't I. Don't tell me all of you can't pick locks." Sang shot right back.

"Not blindfolded we can't."

"Have you tried, Sean. It's not that much different. Slower. But I'm slow at it anyway."

"Besides Luke rules in that regard." 'I really must remember to talk to him later.' Sang murmured to herself. Causing raised eyebrows and curious looks.

"May I ask why Luke in particular, Miss Sorenson?"

Sang grinned "I'll show you why later. It's one of the last activities on this." She explained as she hit play again.

Channelling William Tell.

"Grampa I've been thinking. Can I run an idea past you, please?"

Grampa sat back in his chair and focused on the sunshine of his life, grinning to himself.

"I'd love to hear your idea, Rosie girl." He said pulling her onto his lap for a cuddle. "Hit me with it. What have you cooked up?"

"Well you know how we've been practicing archery every morning for the last few weeks and the target is so big and hard to miss?"

"Mmhm. Keep going sweetie." He was openly grinning now. He knew Rose was beginning to become bored with the apparent lack of a challenge, and he couldn't wait to see what she came up with as a solution.

"I was thinking of moving targets. You know, like Mr D was saying the other night? The Rifle Club has those clay target thingies that shoot targets and you try to hit them. I know we'd have adjust for distance and stuff, but is there something similar that the Archers' Club does? Because it's, well, it's a little boring just standing there and hitting the target."

"Mm, Grammy mentioned you had started making patterns into the target instead of hitting the bullseye each time, and had been practicing speed shots as well."

"It keeps it fun, Grampa. You don't mind do you?" She asked anxiously.

"Sweetie, not one little bit. I don't think the Archers' Club has those facilities, but I'll bet Mr D can help. In fact he'd be delighted to I'm sure." Knowing full well that Pete and his wife would fall over backwards for Rose.

It still amazed him how she had removed the sight from her bow one day saying it wasn't helpful, and had suddenly seemed to hit everything she aimed at. She really had no idea that it was unheard of to be so accurate all the time so quickly.

It seemed she was one of those rare people who either got it straight away, or just needed to give it up. He grinned thinking of all the pots she had broken kicking a ball in the back garden for Spotty to chase.